


Me Watching You Run

by angelheadedhipster



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Telepathy, a MODICUM of OCCASIONAL feelings, but mostly - Freeform, episode coda, gratuitous use of magic for sexy reasons, threesomes for mesome, will i ever finish this show? who can say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-02-15
Packaged: 2019-10-28 17:26:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17791643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelheadedhipster/pseuds/angelheadedhipster
Summary: I know you think he’s cute, too, Eliot thought at Penny, the words popping like bubbles into Penny’s mind. Penny found he wasn’t annoyed at this intrusion, which was sort of surprising. It was useful, and at the moment there were more important things to think about. Things like Quentin’s hair in his face, those long muscled arms under his sweater, lean hip bones poking out from under his corduroys…Cute.





	Me Watching You Run

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FlameBlownWhiter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlameBlownWhiter/gifts).



> Takes place immediately after Quentin wakes up from Marina’s (and Julia’s) spell at the end of s1 episode 4. 
> 
> A delightful side of effect of these fic exchanges the past few times has been that I get to consume new canons that I may not otherwise, and then love them! So this time I watched season 1 the Magicians and guess what it's fantastic. Thank you for giving me reason to get into this new show that is dope and very much made for me.  
> However, I have not watched any of it since season 1. Maybe more things happen? I dont know! Maybe i'll watch it some day. 
> 
> Also, this fic was almost 100% brought to you by writtenkitten

_I'll draw three figures on your heart_  
_One of them will be me as a boy_  
_One of them will be me_  
_One of them will be me watching you run_  
~ Wolf Parade

 

Penny wasn't surprised to see Eliot already at the door to Quentin’s room as he walked down the hall. He _was_ surprised not to see a cigarette in Eliot's hand, though, or a drink. Eliot pretty much always seemed like he should have a drink in his hand, like the image lingered there, even when his hand was empty. Eliot was looking into Quentin’s room, his head slightly tilted.

Eliot turned to look at Penny as he walked up, but his face didn’t register surprise. He nodded, and Penny heard, quietly, in his mind, _Worried, same as me_. Eliot's mental voice was slightly less artificial-sounding than his speaking voice. To Penny it sounded more genuine, more like the way people actually talk.

 

Penny stood next to him, not touching. There were two of them in the doorway to Quentin's room now, and neither of them were particularly small, so they took up all the space. It was like they were fencing Quentin in, Penny thought, preventing him from leaving again.

"How's he doing?" Penny said.

"I'm right here," said Quentin's voice, from inside the room. Penny looked over, and yes, there Quentin was, real and solid-seeming. Quentin was sitting on the edge of his bed, his back hunched, hands furiously folding and unfolding in his lap. His hair was in his face, and his eyes were staring at the floor. He looked exactly like Quentin always looked.

"Our resident fruitcake appears to have made a full mental recovery," Eliot said aloud, but there was a bit of a catch in his voice. "You had us all quite worried there, Q," he said, his voice softer when directed it at the boy on the bed.

"I - I know," Quentin said, not looking up. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..."

And Penny heard Quentin’s voice in his head, a voice he was starting to get used to. _Screwup, again, how could I be so stupid..._

"Look -" Penny took a step forward, into the room. Quentin jumped and shrunk back, and Penny stopped moving. "Look, man, that wasn't your fault. At all. That...that was fucked up, man."

"You did nothing wrong, Q," said Eliot. "Aside from some questionable taste in friends, but that was before we so kindly took you under our wing, and you can hardly be blamed for any youthful transgressions that occurred before you had the chance to meet us."

Penny half turned his head to say something about that kind of bullshit way of talking, but Eliot's eyes were fixed on Quentin, and it didn't seem worth it. Eliot seemed like he didn't know what to do with his hands. He kept running his fingers through his hair, accentuating the wavy lines over his dark eyebrows.

Penny looked back at Quentin, who hadn't moved, his head still down. His shoulder blades were sticking out from the back of his sweater, sharp and jagged. The kid was so bony, all angles.

Quentin looked up, suddenly, and his eyes met Penny's, sharp and merciless, pinning Penny to the spot. Quentin's mind was so _loud_ , all the time, like he didn't realize he was thinking things. Sometimes Penny imagined he could hear grooves in Quentin's mind, the traces his thoughts had worn in the floor as he paced between the same ideas. Quentin’s mind had such a presence, a sense and almost a color, one Penny had learned to recognize as it brushed past his own mind. Now Penny sensed a mix of concern and shame and focus, a piercing focus. Focus on _him._

"You got me out of there, Penny," Quentin said.

"I couldn't really, I-"

"No, you did it," Quentin said. He was leaning forward now, almost rising off the bed with urgency. Penny took a step forward, he couldn't help himself. That kind of focus, it was magnetic. "I know you don't like me much, Penny-"

Penny's mouth opened and he started a half-shrug, half-nod, but Quentin talked over him.

"But you got me out, you saved me, when I asked you to. I wouldn't have been able to myself." Quentin had been practically vibrating with energy, his hands folding over and over in his lap, but he went still now. "Thank you."

Penny just stared. What was this kid’s deal? Quentin was usually moving so quickly, his mind all over the place, that when it all pulled taut and focused at one thing...well, it was kind of intoxicating to be on the receiving end of that. _Captivating_. That was the word Penny would use.

"You did," said a voice behind him. Penny had mostly forgotten Eliot was even there. Eliot walked all the way into the room, letting the door shut behind him. "I suppose my thanks is in order as well, if only for keeping the Physical Kids Welters team intact ahead of the championship game. I do so hate to lose at meaningless sporting events."

Penny was still focused on Quentin, on those deep brown eyes, so big in Quentin's face. "I really...I didn't do anything," Penny said.

"I'd still be stuck there," said Quentin, and his fingers were pressed against each other, as he clasped his hands, long and overlapping. Penny thought about the marks they might leave, pressing like that. "It was so horrible. I can't thank you enough."

 _He's so cute when he's all scrunched up like thi_ s. Penny heard Eliot's voice in his head, and without meaning to, he laughed.

"What?" said Quentin, rising up off the bed a bit. "I really am thanking you, I really do mean it, I'm not..."

"It's not..." Penny said, but explaining what he was laughing at seemed worse.  "Never mind. It's a psychic thing." Might as well take the chance to be a pretentious asshole - everyone else here always did. Quentin looked like he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn’t look mad.

Penny laughed again. The air in the room had changed. Penny didn’t feel that worry any more. His attention was still on Quentin, still watching him, but he felt calm now, more relaxed, as if the stress and terror of seeing Quentin under the spell had finally really ended. He didn't even like Quentin that much, he really didn't, but he had been worried. They all had.

 _A psychic thing_ , came Eliot's thought, clear as if he was talking, but in Penny's head. _Smooth_.

Penny looked over at Eliot. Thinking words directly, knowing that Penny could hear them, a kind of wordless communication; that asshole might be smarter than he looked. Eliot cocked one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him, as if he could hear that thought, too.

 _I know you think he’s cute, too_ , Eliot thought at Penny, the words popping like bubbles into Penny’s mind. Penny found he wasn’t annoyed at this intrusion, which was sort of surprising. It was useful, and at the moment there were more important things to think about. Things like Quentin’s hair in his face, those long muscled arms under his sweater, lean hip bones poking out from under his corduroys…

 _Cute_.

Eliot walked a step closer toward the bed, his eyes on Penny's. He tilted his head, a very slight bit, and a smirk started up the corner of his mouth.

"What's...I am definitely missing something," Quentin said, looking back and forth between the two other boys. He started to stand, his hands by his chest, open as if to push everything away, those long fingers trembling slightly. "A psychic thing, I - what's going on?"

 _Go on,_ Eliot thought at Penny. They were standing next to each other now, Eliot's hands on his hips, his elbow just barely touching Penny's side. They were almost exactly the same height, and they loomed over Quentin.

Penny was feeling off balance, as if the world was crazily tilting. What was in his head, and what was real? Were these thoughts his own, or someone else’s? Maybe they were all imaginary, all one of Quentin's hallucinations, he thought with a scoff.

If that was the case, then Quentin was imagining something very, very interesting. The air was starting to feel thicker, and Penny felt something warm and inviting pooling in his stomach. He liked feeling off balance. That's when things got much more exciting.

Penny knew what he wanted. And he knew pretty clearly what Eliot wanted - _thanks, Eliot._ Which meant it was time to check in on the person who really mattered.

Penny looked at Quentin, and did something he usually tried not to do. He looked into Quentin’s eyes, and he focused as hard as he could. Quentin's mind opened up to him, a haze of ideas and feelings. Mostly grey, flashes of red. The reflected sound of Eliot's breathing, a twitchy nervousness at the sounds in the hallway .The sight of Penny and Eliot looming over him, tall and big...and there wasn't fear there, that wasn't fear that Penny was reading, that Quentin was feeling. It was something else, something so much better. Excitement, lust, desire. Penny felt a flush of his own excitement wash over him, mirroring Quentin’s.

Penny looked over at Eliot, and he could feel his teeth starting to show, that rare smile that meant Penny had found something devastating and crazy to do. Eliot was looking back at him, his head cocked.

"Go get ‘im, tiger," Eliot said, out loud, and his hand moved from his own hip to Penny's shoulder, the weight pressing him along, comforting him and pushing him forward.

Quentin was still half-standing in front of them, and maybe beginning to understand what was going on. His eyes were very wide, his pupils dark, expanding. His hands moved to his sides, slowly, as if Quentin wasn't sure what to do with them.

Penny was grinning now, widely. He couldn’t remember the last time he'd grinned like that. Eliot at his shoulder, speaking into his mind, Quentin in front of him, all hard angles and long straight lines. Penny could do anything.

Penny brought one hand up; he felt like he was moving through a thick liquid, like he was outside of his body watching himself. He looked at Quentin, at his big brown eyes, just a few inches below him, looking up through the hair that had fallen into his face again. Penny put his hand on Quentin's chest, right over his heart, and pushed.

Quentin's eyes got wider, and his hands flew up, before he fell backwards, onto his bed. At this moment Penny was more focused on the waistband of Quentin’s corduroys and the strain in the fabric he could see there, but he didn't have to be focused on Quentin’s mind to hear the explosion of lust and excitement that ran through Quentin's brain at that moment. Desire and anticipation, uncertainty and want, purple and flickering on the edges, and all directed at him.

Well, not all. "Hey, Q," said Eliot behind him. Eliot’s right hand was still on Penny’s shoulder, and the other snaked forward, landing lightly on Quentin’s cheek. “You’re here, right?” Quentin’s eyes were so dark, blown and staring up at Eliot. Quentin’s mind was a swirl of emotion and desire, totally untamed. When Penny focused on Eliot, though, he got nothing. A smooth, blank, wall. No one’s brain really worked like that, which meant Eliot had learned something, and was blanking himself out on purpose.

“Know-it-all second year,” Penny muttered under his breath.

“Hush, you,” said Eliot, shooting him a look that was half reproaching, half smug, before looking back at Quentin’s face. “Nothing you don’t want, Q, I promise. I’ll not have my reputation as a gentleman besmirched in any way. I am _always_ polite.”

“No, you’re not,” said Quentin, and his voice sounded the same as always, half stutter, half explanation, thin and reedy. Amazing, since Penny could hear his mind was exploding in all directions, with a thin core of _want_ that was growing louder all the time.

“Well, no,” said Eliot. “But I try to be polite in this. Besides, I will probably see you again, in the hallways or every aspect of our lives, and it would just be horribly awkward. So - yes? Or no?”

Quentin leaned back until his back was against the wall. Penny didn't move, and neither did Eliot. Penny even tried to back out of Quentin’s mind and give him space. Quentin was so loud, though, and some of the things he was thinking were so _very_ fascinating.

Quentin licked his lips. There was a pause, a moment of silence. If Penny could be this still when he was meditating, he’d have the whole Traveling thing completely figured out.

“Yes, please, oh my god, yes,” said Quentin, and before last word was out, Penny was on top of him, pushing him horizontal onto the bed, his hands on Quentin’s biceps, holding him down, crowding him and pressing in everywhere. Quentin yelped, a sound of surprise giving way to joy or just release, a sound out of control.

Licking Quentin’s throat, along the line of his windpipe, Penny realized he’d been wanting to do exactly that ever since he’d been in Quentin’s hallucination, had heard him say ‘Do it again, harder.’ And now there was a look of absolute ecstasy and ferocity on Quentin’s face, and Penny just wanted to see it again.

“See,” said Eliot’s voice, and to Penny he sounded like he was coming from very far away. “I told you.”

Penny didn’t let Quentin go, but he did tilt his head and look at Eliot, at the smirk, the hands on his hips. “You just like being the one running the show, don’t you?” Penny said. “It’s like when you proctor exams, or show us around the dorms.”

“Hardly,” Eliot said, and managed to inject just the right amount of effrontery to make it believable. “I just want everyone to have a good time.”

That white wall in Eliot’s mind again, but Penny was a person, not just a psychic, and he didn’t miss the little look of wistfulness that passed over Eliot’s face as he looked at Quentin.

So Penny kissed Eliot, sloppy and silly. He was still on top of Quentin, who was splayed out on his back like a present, but Penny leaned his hips against the wall, and twisted up and put his hand around Eliot’s jaw, and he bent in and stuck his tongue in Eliot’s mouth. It was a way of shutting him up, and a way of saying sorry, but most of all a way of stopping those kinds of feelings from edging into this moment of pure lust and nothing else. He didn’t particularly care if Eliot liked it.

But Eliot kissed back, and he took control, slowly and with great care. He was arch and almost artificial in his moments, incredibly delicate, and that tongue, _god…_

Eliot pulled back, and he smirked with total glee at the expression on Penny’s face.

“I don’t even like you,” Penny said.

Quentin cackled at that, the only way to describe it, and Penny felt the muscles in the other boy’s pelvis move as he laughed. Penny dove back in, kissing Quentin furiously, hands scrabbling across Quentin’s chest, stomach, the lines of his hips.

Penny had learned some tricks pretty quickly since coming to Brakebills - he reared up now, and his hands were a blur, the gestures and words of a spell. As he spoke the final syllable there was an echo in the room, Eliot doing the spell at the same time. The combined effect made a whooshing sound, and both he and Eliot were naked, grinning, the slight blue and white residue of magic settling around them.

Quentin wriggled under Penny, his eyes wide and astonished as he looked up. “Teach me that one, now,” he said.

“Busy,” said Penny, who was running his fingers across Eliot’s rib cage, leaning in to lick at a nipple.

“We can do you a bit more analog, Q,” said Eliot.

Quentin was sitting up, Eliot bending down and grabbing the bottom of his sweater, yanking it slowly over his head. Penny was trying to keep up, rolling off Quentin’s legs so that Quentin’s pants could come off while still running his fingers across Eliot’s chest, his lips across his shoulder blades. There were hands everywhere now, and Penny’s eyes fluttered closed, overstimulated and frantic. Fingers were running down Penny’s arms now, up his back, closing over a nipple. Hair brushed against his cheek - Quentin, probably, so that meant it was Quentin’s lips he was kissing, Quentin moaning into his mouth as Penny sucked his lower lip between his teeth. He trailed a hand down the body in front of his and felt ribs under skin, divots and muscles at the shoulders, smooth skin that rippled and responded where he touched it.

Penny pulled himself back from the warmth, from the hands and skin and lips. He opened his eyes, and saw the wall in front of him. He breathed out, and felt fingers and arms ghosting down his oblique muscles.

He wondered what was going to happen next. _This is impossible,_ he thought _._ But no one else in the room was a psychic, and so no one heard.

At that moment, and without trying at all, Penny heard Eliot’s mind in his - _Jesus, you really didn’t tell me you were dangerous -_ as he heard Eliot gasp aloud and a low chuckle from Quentin, and after that it was all blue, purple, red. Blood in his ears, fuzzy and loud. Pure sensation, as if all his nerves utterly gave up, went into overload. Penny worried about Travelling away, that’s how much his mind wasn’t in control, wasn’t able to process, but he had hands holding him down on all sides. And he did not want to be anywhere else.

He kissed Quentin’s lips, then Eliot’s, then his hand was running across Quentin’s ass and Quentin made a choked-off sound, a gasp and a pleading noise. Penny grabbed Quentin’s wrist in response, circled it with his fingers and held, pulled both of Quentin’s wrists over his head and held them with one hand, the other going to Quentin’s cock. Eliot was licking down Penny’s chest, but Penny was focused on Quentin’s face, the need and release there. _Bruises,_ he felt Quentin think, and he grabbed his wrists harder, slamming them against the wall, and Quentin moaned out loud, “ _Yesss_.”

Penny’s head was full of universes as he kissed Quentin again and pumped Quentin’s cock, thinking of wild far off places he could be. He felt like he could fly, could float anywhere, and then it didn’t matter because Elliot's fingers were running up the inside of his thigh. Fingers turned into lips and tongue, warm and wet and of course Eliot was good at this, OF COURSE. Eliot sucked Penny’s cock like he was starving, and managed to be careful and thorough at the same time, finding the spots Penny liked, drawing gasps out of him. One of Eliot’s hands was wrapped around his shaft and the other crept back and played with Penny’s balls, little extra bits of shooting sensation. Penny’s eyes were closed, he couldn’t help it. Quentin was kissing him and there were hands around his hips and down his chest and Penny whited out again, his eyes were closed and he was shouting, and behind his eyes he saw a series of pools and stones, buds and flowers, a path of just beginning greenery.

As he came, there was a moment, a jump, and he knew, knew where it was, knew how to get there, how to feel the warm breeze on his face, run his fingers through the grass. Quentin kissed him through the sensation, slow and deep, and then Eliot came into Penny’s mind in what could only be described as a demanding tone of thought. _I want to see,_ he thought, so Penny moved himself and Quentin to the side, and down, and after that the room with the pools was gone. He had too many other things to do.

Quentin came with Penny’s hand on his dick and Eliot’s lips on his nipples. He barely made a sound when he came, but his whole body went rigid before gasping and falling into the bed, soft and boneless and fucked out. Penny wanted to kiss Eliot again, but Eliot looked pretty keyed up and was using his mouth to ask Quentin if he could jack off on him, so Penny watched that, instead. Quentin’s eyes were huge, dark and wide in his face, and he licked his lips as come spattered onto his chest.

 

Later, Eliot was putting his jacket back on, scrupulous about the sleeves, the creases at the shoulders. Penny was lying sideways on the bottom of Quentin’s bed while Quentin sat against the wall at the head, their legs a tangle together.

“So what now?” Quentin asked, and his voice was so low and sleepy it made Penny grin again. He felt a sort of primal satisfaction that he did that, they did that, made Quentin sound so utterly fucked out. “We make out in supply closets in between exams?”

“What about Cady?” Eliot asked, his tone entirely even.

Penny noted a pain at his temple, and let it pass by. He shrugged, said nothing.

“Of course, it doesn't mean anything,” Eliot said. “I should hardly think we need to go over that particular stipulation.”  Penny could hear the sad and the wistful in his tone. For Penny this really was just sex, but for Eliot...

At that moment, Penny wished he knew how to speak into Eliot’s mind the way Eliot could talk into his. Maybe he’d talk to him about it, later. Maybe. It was hard to imagine talking to Eliot outside of this room.

“You know, I really feel like I'm back at Brakebills now,” said Quentin. “Really here, not stuck in my mind or some mental hospital. I couldn’t have made that up.”

 _Not for lack of trying_ , Eliot thought, and Penny didn’t know if he was supposed to have heard that or not but smirked anyway.

“Neither could they,” Eliot said out loud.

“Yah,” Penny said. “The poor girls.”

They all grinned at that, but didn’t quite make eye contact.

A quick kiss for both of them and Eliot was gone. Penny certainly didn’t want to talk, but he didn’t feel like leaving quite yet. He magicked the door closed, easy, and didn’t move.

“Will you teach me the naked spell?” Quentin asked, his voice fading as he fell asleep.

“Can’t stand to have something you don’t know, huh,” Penny said. “But yeah.”

“That’s me,” Quentin said, and his eyes were closed.

Penny stared at the ceiling, content in the clarity and emptiness that came with good sex. Pools, and between the pools, paths, and flowers...


End file.
